Falls the Shadow
by k123
Summary: The summer after she turns 8, Lucy is crowned Queen of Narnia. 12 summers later, she's forgotten more than she remembers. England, Narnia, and the ways time stands still.


A/N: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, or TS Eliot's The Hollow Men

Between the idea  
And the reality  
Between the motion  
And the act  
Falls the Shadow  
_For Thine is the Kingdom_

Between the conception  
And the creation  
Between the emotion  
And the response  
Falls the Shadow  
_Life is very long_

Between the desire  
And the spasm  
Between the potency  
And the existence  
Between the essence  
And the descent  
Falls the Shadow  
_For Thine is the Kingdom_

Lucy is 8 years old when she first comes to Narnia. Looking back years later, she can only remember flashes of that time; she remembers a winter so cold, so destructive, that it seemed the sun would never come. She remembers Aslan dying on the altar, Susan drawing a bowstring with tears in her eyes, Peter looking both sad and majestic as Edmund is wrapped in ice and snow. She remembers the cost of winning that war, measured in her soldiers' lives, and she remembers a magic cordial that was never enough. The first summer after centuries of winter, she is crowned Queen. She stands tall under the weight of her crown, ready to take on the world. But defeating the White Witch was only the beginning and learning to be a Queen is much more than wearing a crown and waving to the crowd.

LucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucyLucy

Caught up in Narnia, Lucy spends almost no time contemplating what was left behind the wardrobe. She doesn't think about England, or her parents, so it comes as a surprise when Lucy realizes how little she actually recalls. But she remembers soft hands and a quiet voice. She remembers her mother cried when she sent them off on the train, far away so that they would be safe, but her mother's face is a blur. Of her father there is nothing, just fear, uncertainty, and a lack of presence; this is all she knows of her parents – her mother's tears and her father's absence.

She remembers explosions, bombs and constant fear. She remembers drills in school, hiding under the desk as planes passed through the air; but the land she left behind has begun to seem like a child's nightmare to her (she thinks her mother used to comfort her after bad dreams, but she can only remember Susan's arms and Edmund's assurances and Peter's voice making everything all right). The sun is shining and Narnia is the most beautiful place in this world, and Lucy wonders if it's shameful to miss something she can't even remember.

SusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSusanSus

"Do you ever think about our old home? Before Narnia?" Susan pauses, turning to look at Lucy. She is dressed in her leathers, off to practice and train her archers, ever moving and fighting, everything a Queen of Narnia should be.

"Why? It doesn't matter. We're home now, here." Susan has always been the most practical, the one who looks to the future. She is fiercely loyal, but the past is the past and right now Narnia is everything to her. Lucy loves her sister but sometimes she envies Susan's ability to forget what she's lost. She seems much freer for it.

"Well, yes, but, do you ever wonder how our parents are? Whether they miss us? Mother especially. She's alone now, with our father off still fighting and us – well. Here." Lucy thinks how she would feel if Peter, Edmund, and Susan suddenly disappeared and looks down, blinking rapidly.

She feels a hand touch her shoulder, and looks up into Susan's face. "You shouldn't worry about that, Lucy. We have enough of our own worries, you know." Susan's smile is tired but there is a core of steel beneath it. "We still have battles to fight, wars to win." Susan straightens up, adjusting the bow that is slung over her shoulder. "Be happy Lucy. And, if you can't be, then at least smile. People look to us for assurance." Her sister's tone is calm and caring, but Susan has places to go and people to see; a war to win.

And in Narnia, being Gentle doesn't mean not killing, or even regretting the necessity of the kill; it means making death as quick and painless as possible; it means killing today so less die tomorrow. Susan is the best archer in Cair Paravel. She never misses her target.

Lucy is a Queen, but she's still young enough to think that it's not fair, leaving one war behind only to be thrust into another.

PeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPet

They win of course (they win all their wars). There is dancing and celebration, and Lucy runs laughing down the hallways of the palace, without a care in the world.

She passes a mirror, stopping suddenly to stare at her face. When, she wonders, touching the glass, did I start to grow up? The woman in the mirror appears around 20, but the years between 8 and 20 (and before) seem to all blur together, in a mess of golden happiness (she can remember feasts and picnics and holding court with her siblings, but it doesn't feel quite real). Lucy smiles, before twirling away from the mirror and going to join her family. She's being ridiculous. Life is wonderful, and all her dreams from childhood have come true (Lucy can't remember her nightmares).

EdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEdmundEd

"Edmund?" He turns from the window, smiling at Lucy. The door falls shut softly behind her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Lu," Edmund reassures her. "I'm just thinking." Lucy has noticed how Ed is always 'just thinking' during many of their celebrations. Not all of them, but enough that she knew where to find him tonight.

"What do you think about?" Lucy arranges herself on the armchair closest to the window, looking at Edmund attentively.

He laughs a little, before it catches in his throat. "You're the only one who ever asks me that question Lucy. Peter and Susan assume it's still guilt about the White Witch." Edmund leans against the window, the moonlight causing shadows to dance across his face. He smiles wryly, lips twisting in thought, weariness, and a just little bit of nostalgia. He smiles like a grown up (and Lucy wonders again when this started to happen). "And while I know that I'll never stop regretting my actions, it's not that. I was 10, a scared little boy who was angry at the world. She was beautiful and grand, and promised me everything my heart desired." He gazed into the distance for a moment. "She had a name, you know. Jadis. She was cold and perfect, and I thought I loved her. So, no, Lucy, I don't stay away, wracked with guilt from crimes I committed when I was young and stupid. But I do think about Narnia, and what we do here. I wonder if what we do is right. The thing is Lu," he leans forward a little, intently, "the thing is, there always has to be a balance. When she ruled, it was always Winter, and never Christmas. But now; now, it's always Summer. The air is always warm and sweet; nature ever green and flourishing. There's no longer a cycle of rebirth and renewal, of life and death. Nothing ever changes."

Lucy touches Edmund's face. "We changed." And she thinks about wars and blood, about being eight and a Queen, about the difference between an adult and a child.

In Narnia, Justice isn't about making everyone happy, or even about fairness; it's about balance and equality, and is as cold and merciless as the White Witch ever was.

"Sometimes," Edmund says, "I miss the snow."

AslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAslanAsl

Lucy walks through Cair Paravel, beaming at her people, leaving pockets of happiness behind her. Aslan has come to the palace to visit, and everything is perfect.

NarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNarniaNar

Peter looks tired. They all rule, but Peter is High King, and he still has final say. And sometimes, there are no right decisions, and no one leaves court happy. Susan stands on his right, Edmund on his left, and Lucy stands in front, the four of them united against the angry Animals who stand before them. The protestations die beneath Edmund's glare, Susan's scorn, Peter's assurance, and Lucy's smile.

Later that night, they gather in Peter's room, sprawling across the bed, tangled in up in each other. Lucy clutches onto her siblings and thinks that this moment, right here, is everything they need (she doesn't think about Aslan, or the fact that they haven't seen him in months, because Susan's arms are around her and Edmund's murmuring reassurances, and Peter is calm and bright and magnificent).

In Narnia, being Magnificent isn't about perfection and glory, it's about standing strong when you want to collapse, holding on when you want to let go, and leading your people even when you just want them to leave you alone.

They are Kings and Queens of Narnia, and Lucy can't remember anything else.

EnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglandEnglan

When they tumble back through the wardrobe, when her body shrinks, and her muscles soften, Lucy thinks of being 8 and 20 and all the time in between, and finally knows where those years disappeared to (and now it's time to relive the childhood that was taken from them when they became Kings and Queens, and Lucy weeps for the necessity).

She remembers Peter's brightness, Edmund's pain, and Susan's mercy; she remembers her mother's face and her father's voice; and she remembers what it means to be Valiant, to be brave and courageous, and to give faith to the world, even when your heart is breaking.

The sky is grey and cloudy in England, weather Narnia hasn't seen since the endless Winter, and Lucy breathes in the smell of rain and snow. It is no longer summer, and this is no longer Narnia, but she is Valiant still. Tilting her head up towards the sky, Lucy smiles.


End file.
